Healing Hands
by EllisBelle
Summary: A JuliaAngelique fic. Angelique and Julia share an unexpected moment.


The Fine Print: I'm still not Dan Curtis and _Dark Shadows_ is still not mine. Damn.

About the pairing: This is a Julia/Angelique fic. Yes, you heard me correctly, a Julia/Angelique fic. While I am a devoted Angie and Barnabas shipper, I thought it might be fun to indulge in a little femslashy goodness. And I think they make a lovely couple.

_**Healing Hands**_  
**by EllisBelle**

_Chapter, the First_

Angelique slammed her bedroom door, enraged. "Damn Judah Zachary! And damn Barnabas Collins!" She gingerly touched her side and winced. Her latest attempt to defeat Zachary through magic had deteriorated into a physical brawl when Evan Hanley had arrived at Collinwood. Fortunately, Barnabas and one of the servants had been able to handle the incensed warlock but not before he delivered a particularly painful blow to Angelique. And what thanks did she get from Barnabas? None at all. As usual, he had been completely unconcerned about her, despite the fact that she was injured while trying to help his family–people she cared nothing about. Angelique fought the urge to cry as she sat down on the edge of her bed. She had promised herself that she wouldn't shed any more tears over Barnabas.

A knock at the door startled her. Barnabas was the only person who ever came to her room. And not for the reasons that she would have liked. No, he only tolerated her because he wanted her help in freeing Quentin. He still looked at her with nothing but disgust and loathing in his eyes. "Go away, Barnabas," she called. Her voice sounded far more tired than she had intended.

"It's not Barnabas, Valerie." The answering voice caught Angelique by surprise. It wasn't Barnabas' deep timbre but the distinctive whisky voice of Dr. Julia Hoffman, a woman Angelique had begrudgingly come to respect. "It's Julia," the voice explained hesitantly. "May I come in?"

Angelique didn't answer. She merely moved to the door and opened it for the other woman, shutting it behind her. Julia walked into the middle of the room before turning to face the blonde witch. Angelique fixed Julia in a curious blue stare. Julia always felt uncomfortable when she found herself the object of Angelique's intense gaze. "I came to see how you were," Julia stammered, "after that scene with Evan downstairs."

"Why do you care how I am?"

Julia thought to herself, "Why, indeed?" But something in the other woman's voice caught her off guard. Beneath the usual coldness, Julia sensed a deep sadness.

"I am a doctor, remember?" Julia smiled, adopting her best bedside manner.

"Yes." Angelique looked away from her now and paced across the room to her dressing table. She bent slightly to look at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was in miserable disarray. Messy blonde tendrils had fallen free of her elaborate up-do. Angelique let out a derisive chuckle as she studied her reflection. She raised her right arm to take out the rest of the pins from her hair, forgetting about her sore ribs, and gasped sharply in pain.

Julia found herself drawn to Angelique. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before carefully pulling out the remaining pins from Angelique's hair. As she smoothed down the errant curls, Julia was intoxicated by the feeling of the silky golden locks slipping through her fingers. Glancing over Angelique's shoulder at their reflection in the mirror, Julia saw her own angular face framed by shorter auburn tresses. She expected to meet a fierce blue gaze in the mirror but instead she noticed that Angelique had closed her eyes. Suddenly very uncomfortable again, Julia cleared her throat and tried to snap back into her professional persona. "Yes, well, you better let me have a look at your side."

Angelique had been surprised by the doctor's gentle touch and soon became lulled by the feel of Julia's fingers running through her hair. She opened her eyes at the sound of Julia's throat clearing and turned to see that she had already moved away from her.

Angelique stood and uttered a noncommittal "fine" before joining Julia near the bed. They looked awkwardly at each other for a moment until Julia finally broke the silence.

"You'll have to get undressed for me to examine you." Angelique nodded and began to undo the multitude of tiny satin buttons running the length of her bodice. Julia watched Angelique's fingers nimbly work their way down her dress, revealing her smooth throat inch by inch with each button. Julia bit her lower lip to bring herself out of the unexpected daze. She picked up her medical bag that had lain forgotten on the floor. She busied herself sorting through various instruments and bandages, anything to keep from watching the other woman.

Angelique finally undid the last button and carefully shrugged the dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor around her feet. She stepped out of the pool of satin and stood hesitantly in front of Julia, looking down at the remainder of her clothing. She knew that her corset had to come off but there was no way she could undo the tight cords lacing across her back by herself. Normally she wouldn't have hesitated to simply tell Julia to do it. Angelique usually loved playing lady of the house. But for some reason she found herself suddenly feeling rather shy in front of the doctor. She watched Julia fussing with a bundle of gauze for a moment, studying her profile. "Should I call for the maid," she began softly, motioning towards her chest, "or could you . . ."

"Of course." Julia stepped towards her. "Just turn around." Julia watched as Angelique turned her back towards her, still feeling decidedly ill at ease. Angelique's skin looked dark against the white cotton of her chemise. Why was she reacting this way? She hated this woman after all. But somehow she didn't think that her unexpected reaction to being alone with Angelique had anything to do with hatred. Julia suddenly wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible. I am a doctor, a professional, she told herself. She stepped closer to Angelique and began to try and unwork the knot fastening the corset. Damn these things. It just wouldn't give. Julia found her attention drifting higher on Angelique's back. Don't look at those tan shoulder blades peaking through those impossibly blonde curls, she admonished herself. Using her fingernails, Julia was finally able to untie the laces and begin to loosen them. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. "You know," she began, trying to leaven the atmosphere, "these things really aren't good for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, corsets can apparently do all sorts of damage to your internal organs." Julia pulled the last of the strings through the hooks, "There."

"Thank you," Angelique said turning to look the doctor in the face, not realizing quite how close they were standing. She found herself staring into a pair of intense eyes that could rival even her own. Except Julia's were fascinatingly dark. Julia looked down uncomfortably and took a few steps back. Angelique wondered how long she had been standing there staring at the other woman like an imbecile. "I'm not surprised."

"What?" Julia had no idea what they had been talking about.

"I'm not surprised that corsets are bad for you," she explained. "They're most uncomfortable." She tossed her own to the floor with her dress.

Julia laughed nervously, smoothing her hands down the front of her own dress, "That they are. Now let's take a look at those ribs." Back to business. Angelique carefully raised the edge of her chemise up, cautious not to raise it too high, overcome by modesty for the first time in a century.

Julia's breath caught in her throat. Looking at the woman in front of her, she finally understood why Barnabas had risked everything for even just a brief dalliance with her. And she felt a surprising twinge of anger towards her old friend for having hurt this woman in the past. Angelique looked too beautiful to be real, every inch the angel that she was named for, better than even Botticelli could ever have imagined. Her raised chemise exposed the smooth plane of her stomach and the delicious dips above her hipbones. How could anyone so beautiful be capable of such evil? Then her eyes finally locked with Angelique's and once again she saw the sleeping power hidden in their depths. A shiver ran across the back of her neck, but she wasn't frightened as she had reason to be. Then Julia saw the glaring blue and purple bruises just below Angelique's breast and the doctor in her gained control.

"I need to make sure nothing's broken." Julia gently laid her hand across the bruised area, trying to concentrate on what she was doing and not on how warm Angelique's skin felt beneath her fingers. Angelique had been holding her breath since she first felt Julia's cool fingers across her skin. As Julia's fingers probed deeper into her ribs, she let out a small gasp of pain. Julia looked up sharply at the noise. "I'm sorry. I know it must hurt." Angelique nodded and bit her lip as the doctor continued her exam. "From what I can tell, nothing appears to be broken, just badly bruised."

Just then, the back of Julia's hand accidentally brushed against the underside of Angelique's breast. The small moan that escaped Angelique's throat hung in the air. Julia froze and slowly looked up to meet Angelique's eyes which where heavy lidded with unmistakable arousal.

"Angelique." The whispered word slipped out of Julia's mouth before she could stop it. She wasn't sure if she meant it as a plea or as a threat.

Angelique wasn't sure what Julia meant either. But before she could think about it any further, she leaned over to kiss those lips that had just said her name so tenderly. At first the kiss was tentative, their lips barely brushing each other's, then retreating and advancing and starting again. The breath from their parted, seeking mouths mixing, Angelique felt as if she were breathing through Julia—that Julia was breathing something into her, awakening something long cold and silent, forcing the air through her veins, nerves, even the very cells of her being.

Julia was experiencing something new herself, a lack of cognitive thought. For once, Dr. Julia Hoffman–analytical, responsible–was not thinking, but feeling something that she had not experienced in a long time. Passion. Not for finding a cure for Barnabas, not for helping one of the other sundry Collins's who always needed her attention, but a selfish passion. She felt as if she were drawing something from Angelique as they kissed, something that she needed just as much as her next breath.

"Angelique?"

Julia jerked away from Angelique guiltily as Barnabas's voice suddenly echoed from the hall.

"Angelique? Angelique, are you in there?" asked Barnabas while knocking insistently on the door. "I really need to speak with you about Quentin's case."

The witch in question had not moved since being interrupted. She watched as Julia awkwardly collected her bag.

"Yes, Barnabas," she finally answered, narrowing her eyes in irritation. "Give me a moment." Angelique moved to open the door, glancing back at Julia. Julia looked absolutely horror stricken. Just like a guilty paramour, thought Angelique, with a slight grin. "What do you want me to do, Julia?" she teased. "Hide you under my bed like a lover . . . before my husband finds us?"

Julia wanted to run from the room as color flooded her face. She did not see the humor in the situation at all. Angelique's husband _was _standing outside the door. Barnabas. Her best friend. The man she had dedicated her life in recent years to helping. But the one thing that did not bother her about the situation was Angelique's use of the word "lover." And that fact Julia found truly disturbing. Yes, the situation is definitely bereft of humor, thought Julia.

Angelique did not give her a chance to reply before she opened the door and stood aside to let Barnabas enter.

"I really must speak with you about . . ." Barnabas stopped mid sentence as he took in the sight of the scantily clad Angelique before him. It had been centuries since he had seen her like this. Yet every curve and piece of exposed skin was exactly as he remembered it.

He looked at Angelique with something that Julia had never seen before–desire. Hatred. Loathing. Disgust. Sometimes a begrudging tolerance. Julia often saw those in Barnabas's eyes when he looked at his "wife." It took him a moment to even realize that Julia was in the room as well.

The story of my relationship with Barnabas Collins, thought Julia. Strangely, at this moment, she didn't care. She couldn't stay in the room with them any longer.

"Julia, what are you doing here?" he asked curiously.

"I really must be going," Julia stammered as she brushed past Barnabas for the door, avoiding looking at Angelique.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Julia?" she murmured aloud to herself, bringing her hand to her forehead in a nervous gesture, as she walked down the hallway to her own room. She had kissed Angelique. And worse, she had wanted to do much more than kiss Angelique. She should be disgusted, outraged. Not because she had kissed another woman. That wasn't a new experience at all for Julia. But until ten minutes ago, she had hated Angelique. And with reason. Angelique had tortured Barnabas and the rest of the Collins family for centuries with her witchcraft. Not to mention the fact that Angelique had kidnapped her and delivered her into the waiting hands of a vampire. She could still feel the piercing cut of teeth into her flesh . . .

"Julia, wait!"

Julia turned to see Angelique hastily buttoning her dressing gown as she followed her down the hall.

"Julia, I . . ." Angelique began, only to realize that she had no idea what she wanted to say to her. She only knew that she had to follow her, to say something. "I . . ." Angelique shook her head slightly in frustration. Julia tried to back away uncomfortably.

Impulsively Angelique grabbed Julia's hand. She bent to kiss the back of it in a very courtly fashion. Then turning the captured hand over, she placed a soft, slow kiss in the palm.

Julia took deep breath before she began weakly, "We can't . . ." She didn't even sound convincing to herself "Barnabas is . . ." Her words trailed off as she stared into Angelique's eyes, lost. Without another word, Angelique released Julia's hand and walked away.

"A drink. I need a drink," Julia stated out loud to no one as she walked past her room and headed downstairs to the drawing room. She felt as if she had never needed a large—make that a very large—glass of sherry more than she did right now. Before today she would have accused the other woman of using her powers to hypnotize her. What have I gotten myself into? she thought.

"I don't feel like talking about Quentin or any of the rest of your family for that matter tonight, Barnabas," Angelique declared when she got back to her room. Shocked at her tone, Barnabas looked at her in disbelief. Then as if a light had dawned on him, he looked at her expectantly. Recognizing the look and not understanding for the life of her why she suddenly did not care if Barnabas wanted her again, Angelique finished pointedly, "I will see you first thing tomorrow morning about his trial." Barnabas moved toward the door not sure what had come over Angelique. She was usually throwing herself at him and now here she was throwing him out of her bedroom. He left thinking that he needed to find Julia and ask her if Angelique had hit her head.

Angelique closed the door behind Barnabas and leaned with her back against it. She touched her own fingers to her lips then looked down at them as if expecting to see a revelation of what had happened this evening. Angelique smiled suddenly, and then laughed. A familiar expression returned to her face. Many unfortunate souls at Collinswood had borne witness to the half smile and the uplifted eyes that signaled Angelique's wicked, single-minded determination, and all to dire consequences.

She wanted Julia Hoffman. And she would have Julia Hoffman.

_To be continued . . ._


End file.
